She's So Lovely
by written-at-summer-sunset
Summary: Brief glances and friendly smiled here and there, filling in the hole in their wordless passings was all it took for him to fall in love./ One-shot.


**New one-shot! Whoo-hoo! Harrah and all that. **

**This was inspired by both the song by Scouting for Girls and a one-shot called Smart Thing…kinda anyway…**

**But anyway, I know a bunch of people love Echo/Adam, but Adam/OC is way better to me. Echo just doesn't seem to fit with Adam, ya know?**

**Sorry if some things seem different from the show and some characters act a little different. I haven't seen all the episodes, but I think I got the gist of them and their personalities.**

* * *

She was new and driving him crazy.

Adam didn't know how or why, but she was. With her sparkling emerald eyes and thin-lipped smile, Taylor Lockhart had her under his spell…And didn't even know it.

They weren't much; friendly smiles here and brief, acknowledging glances there. Nothing special, nothing just for _him_.

But Adam still felt the sparks when her striking eyes meet his in the halls; he still felt the tingles when their hands accidently brushed when they bumped into each other.

Something about Taylor was special—the irony of them both being the youngest teachers in school was not lost on Adam, not one bit. It wasn't lost on the other staff members either. Each meeting spent with snickers breaking loose when one of the two geniuses raised their hand to contribute.

"She's so hot," Derby gushed girlishly, completing his gushing and daydreaming with a feminine pose as he looked off into the distance.

Adam shook his head in dismay, staring at his friend in amusement. "Do you even know what class she teaches?" _Because I do_, he bit his tongue to keep from blurting it out in a gloat.

Derby was pulled out of his daydream, nodding his head a little too quickly. "Of course I do!" he defended. "The one with the stringy thing and arrow thingy—"He gestured with his hand around feebly to weakly back up his point.

Rolling his eyes, the teacher sighed and looked up from his telescope. "You mean the violin? One of the instruments she plays in order to teach Orchestra?"

His friend nodded along as if he knew all along. "Of course that's what I meant," he bluffed. "You just beat me to saying it…"

Adam sighed, continuing to play around with the lens a while longer, halfheartedly flipping through a list he made with possible slides to use with his classes. It was pretty silent (the teacher having learned to train himself in the art of droning out Derby's long babbles about girls) until the door open and closed again with a slam.

"Hey guys!" Echo called out cheerfully, lifting her backpack on her shoulder again, "Ready to head to lunch? I heard since Margret started shaving, they'll be less hair in the meat."

Derby perked up at the mention of food. "I need to get my gorilla suit."

"Why?' Echo questioned with a furrow of her brows.

"Uh, duh. You can't eat a banana sandwich without a gorilla suit!" Derby scoffed as if his female friend was denser than he and marched out the door, heading toward his locker in pursuit for his hairy animal suit.

Echo looked at where he once stood before turning to Adam. "I'll never get him."

"Neither will I," Adam said with a careless shrug. "I gave up trying."

"So you are coming?" Echo asked brightly—Adam remembered how he couldn't get enough of her cheerfulness. How long ago that was.

But he nodded, trying to keep up his puppy façade for a little longer. "Sure I'll be there in a minute," he said, waving as she left, calling over her shoulder about saving a spot for him at the table.

Once the door slammed shut (a minute passing until he heard her footsteps), Adam slumped against his desk. His microscope forgotten, he sighed in dismay.

This wasn't good him—this distress wasn't good for anyone—especially a young genius like him, a teacher with one of the most reckless classes. With the itchy feeling of flour and glue still lodged up his nose and buried in his hair, the week was slowly transforming him sour. God, his life had never seemed so dramatic.

"Are you busy?" A voice piped up from the doorway. Adam jumped, letting out his personal _oh so manly _shriek of surprise. His had flown to his chest in shock, breathing heavily from the scare.

"Sorry," the voice apologized, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Adam recognized the voice now; Taylor stepped into the science room more—her slight southern accent showing in her voice. "No worries," he assured lightly, ducking his head to keep his face from flushing.

God was she absolutely gorgeous.

Taylor rolled her lips into her mouth, bunching up her skirt in her hands and twisting it awkwardly. Adam busied himself with some loose papers strewn around on his desk—the awkward tension was getting too thick from to handle.

The science genius couldn't help but realize how alike they were when together—so awkward and shy and timid that it was laughable. Adam inwardly sighed; so alike, but so different.

"Tater said I could get some notes from you?" Taylor hinted, messing with a lock of hair that threatened to fall into her eyes. It took all of Adam's resistance to keep from leaning over and pushing it back for her. "Something about tricking the students with pineapples and fake palm trees…?" Taylor shook her head and giggled lightly, clearly amused.

Adam, despite being used to the hectic activity of the school, chuckled along, smiling a twitchy, almost gone type of smile. "I remember him mentioning something like that," he agreed vaguely, searching through his desk drawers for said papers. It was such a vain attempt, but looking for the papers and the last staff meeting helped tweak his mind of Taylor—if only for a handful of minutes.

It wasn't a secret that Adam and Taylor—both amazing prodigies and geniuses of their generation, _thankyouverymuch_—weren't the favorites among the other staff of teachers and counselors; Snickering and snarky, even mildly hateful, digs and comments thrown their way here and there at the meetings. The last regrouping had been no different—neither will the next one.

"Here it is," Adam claimed, holding up the stapled pieces of paper. He knew he didn't _have to _speak, but the teacher was desperate for something to fill the silence. Maybe Taylor was too, but the way she seemed noticeably more relaxed when her gem-like eyes caught sight of what was in his hand.

"Thanks a bunches," she thanked gratefully, smiling a full-on, tinted cheeks, shy new-girl smile that made Adam's heart soar and clutch oddly. "You just saved me a whole lot of trouble. To be honest with you—"she leaned closer, her smile dimming only in the tiniest tweak of her mouth—"The other teachers seem to hate us, don't you think?"

Adam shrugged. "I never paid attention to them; it's not like I can do anything about it, right?"

Taylor pulled back slightly, still leaning against the desk across from him as she hummed in thought. "I guess," she said with a shrug, her blond locks falling over her eyes again. "I've been a bit caught up playing New Girl to try and _not _care."

With an awkward laugh, they both reach out.

That's when Adam swore the entire world froze.

It was accidental—no more than the mere brush of their fingertips as Taylor graciously accepted the papers. But Adam felt a bolt of undeniable feeling shoot up his arm and crawl up his neck, turning into an unmanly flush that camped on his cheeks.

Taylor, on the other hand, was no more than a bit flustered, hurriedly stuffing her bag with the plans. Unbeknownst to her fellow young teacher, a tingle camped in her fingers, charging her with an unhealthy buzz.

"Uh, I guess I'll be leaving now," the blonde stuttered as she clumsily went to the door. "See you later?"

Adam just barely opened his mouth to respond when a flustered Taylor shot a quick wave at him, closing the door behind her in a loud rush.

Once she was gone, Adam slumped against the board, not caring about the chalk marks that no doubt stained the back of his shirt now; not caring that lunch was nearly halfway over and his stomach was begging for some food or that he just (accidently on purpose, he supposed) ditched his friends. Instead his mind wandered back to the brief couple of seconds—if that—their fingers touched.

Could they possibly get anymore awkward?

…

Taylor Lockhart wasn't your normal teenage violinist. She wasn't your average teenage teacher either.

When warned that taking on the role of an Orchestra teacher for rowdy high school students with snippy attitudes and not a single care in the world. That it would push her and push her until she snapped over the edge of insanity and turned her mind to mush. That's what the other teachers made sure to tell her.

And, as Tater made sure to point out, being in charge of four Orchestra classes meant being able to play bass, viola, violin and cello. Taylor knew this, picking up all the other three instruments after she had learnt everything to know about violin.

Not that she was bragging.

Sighing, Taylor flipped through the papers Adam had given her, studying them distractedly. Despite already being at the school for three months—hardly being able to be considered a 'new girl' anymore, she thought—Taylor would never get used to the odd happenings. Or the offhandedly creepy kids that wouldn't stop looking at her.

"Miss Lockhart?" a shy voiced asked from the doorway. Taylor jumped, letting out a pitched squeak, hand jumping over her heart.

"Sorry Elizabeth," Taylor apologized with a sheepish smile. "What can I help you with?"

As her student started chattering on about places to find rosin, Taylor blanked out—not noticing her student was expecting a response until there was a tap to her shoulder. The blonde snapped out of her daze, answering with a very unintelligent, "huh?"

…

"You haven't seen Honey Boo Boo?"

Adam leaned against the wall, peering just enough around the corner to watch Taylor as she set down her cello and began walking around the room. Okay, so, yeah, this was a bit stalker-ish on his part, but he's in love. What was a man in love to do?

"I grew up," Taylor began, "in a part of Michigan where—you know how they have the subtitles? I grew up in the part where I don't need the subtitles. Has anyone seen it?"

A few timid hands raised in the air and Taylor shook her bow at them, rosin in her other hand.

"Her mom—mom of the hut." A few snickers accompanied her sentence. "Oh boy, did you see how she had to have her pedicure?"

"Yeah, a tracker when over her foot or something," a student piped up from the back row. "It was so gross, oh my God."

Taylor shook her head and picked up her cello, sitting in her seat. Adam smiled at how the light shined down on her hair. He still smiled when the bell rang and the classes were dismissed. Even though he had to leave, Adam lingered for a few, brief minutes before walking off. For once he knew how it felt to be like his students.

His sudden shift in mood later in the week didn't go unnoticed.

"What's up with you?" Derby asked suspiciously, eyeing his friend warily. "You're not thinking of extra homework are you? Between not doing the amount I do now, I can't afford even more to avoid. Do you not see what the pressure is doing to me?"

Adam shook his head; suddenly the scratched up table looked very interesting. "Whatever," he mumbled distracted.

"Something's up," Derby decided finally. "And I'm going to find out what it is."

The teacher remained frozen looking at the table. "That's nice."

"Hey guys," Echo greeted cheerfully, hands empty of food and instead with a tree. "What's going on?"

"Adam's turned into a lying filthy pig!" Derby accused with a pointing finger.

She gasped, setting her tree down; the boys tried to push away the branches. "Does this mean I was right? Because if it does, Ivy owes me money."

"No need to fear—I have this all covered," Derby assured, "I'll crack this case wide open at the festival tonight."

Adam jumped—his tray nearly fell to the floor in a noisy clatter. He'd completely forgotten. So instead of wallowing in his self-pity of being dateless, he now has to chaperone an event full of people his age.

Just fantastic. But that didn't mean he had to suffer through it alone.

…

The last thing Taylor expected to see on her doorstep on Thursday afternoon was a science teacher—her coworker. With a flower in his hand and the shy, kind of dorky smile on his face.

"Hey Adam," she greeted, stepping out onto the porch. Taylor pulled her cardigan around herself tighter. "What are you doing here?"

The boy shifted his weight in front of her, twirling the flower in his hands. "You know the fake festival? Want to go, with me?" His words came out in a quick mutter-slash-stutter. Taylor smiled kindly at his nervousness. As wrong as it sounded, she thought it was cute when Adam appeared so flustered and awkward.

She tapped a slim finger against her chin. "Sure, why not?" Taylor said with a grin, toying shyly with her skirt.

Adam paused; he hadn't expected her to agree. If anything, he thought he'd have to a bit more pleading for her to even _consider _it. "Okay," he managed to say. "I'll pick you up at six and we can walk there together?" Kind of lame, he thought; to have to make your date walk, but then again better than having his mother in the car because of only having a permit.

They stood there a while before Adam realized he was still holding the flower. "Oh! This is for you," he said, blushing to his shoes.

Taylor gingerly took the flower—the petals were soft as she stroked the tulip with her index finger.

"Thursday, at six," she affirmed with a smile. Adam nodded and waved. It's when she closed the door and was sure he was gone when Taylor let out a dreamy smile; the flower felt light and looked so pretty and fragile in her hands. Humming under her breath, the blonde walked to the kitchen—a perkier vibe in her step as she dug out a dark blue glass vase in the back of a cabinet. Taylor filled it halfway full, looking at the orange swirls in the glass as she did so.

The kitchen seemed brighter, sunnier, when she carefully set the tulip in the vase and put in the window.

…

"I still can't believe you got a date!" Ivy shrieked, "Before _me_! This is not how my high school experience is supposed to go. I'm the older one, so I do all the older stuff before you." She glared at her brother. "That's how it works."

"Trust me." Adam rolled his eyes. "At your rate, you'll have at least five more years of _high school experience_. Plenty of enough time."

Ivy stomped her foot, glaring as hard as she could at her brother as she cried out, "MOM! Tell Adam to knock it off!"

As his sister stomped upstairs, Adam stood. He fixed his shirt—adjusting the collar of his plaid shirt. The science teacher glanced at the clock. 5:28. If Adam was going to walk two streets to Taylor's house, he had to get moving.

Shouting a good-bye over his shoulder, Adam hurried out of the house, jogging the first block before slowing to a quick walk. Honestly, he had no idea what he was going to do. This was Adam's first time with a girl in that kind of way. He could only pray that he wouldn't make a huge idiot of himself and get through this smoothly. To do that, will he need to funny and charming? To completely change his perspective to match hers so she won't drop him in the first five minutes?

He was so immersed in the worst case scenarios that Adam didn't realize he'd reached Taylor's house two minutes earlier than he had thought. Frozen, Adam stood there a minute, entertaining the idea of just turning home and hiding out in his lab-slash-garage.

Too late. A skinny, tall strawberry blonde was coming out of the house, car keys in hand. She stopped short—her eyes landed on Adam and her thin lips spread into a kind smile. "Taylor!" she called into the house, "A young man is here to see you!" Adam hadn't said anything to her; she was still on the porch and he on the sidewalk.

"Coming mom!" came Taylor's distant reply from where Adam guessed was upstairs. She appeared moments later behind her mother, looking gorgeous: hair curled to perfection, grey jeggings and a black T-shirt under crimson blazer. Too gorgeous, Adam decided on the spot, for him to possibly be on a _kindsortamaybe date_ with.

Her mother waved good-bye, calling a "Take good care of her, boy!" to the stunned science teacher over her shoulder as she slid into her car and pulled out of the driveway.

"Hey Adam," Taylor greeted with a smile, "I see you met my mom—kind of."

"Yeah," Adam managed. "You ready to go?"

She nodded and they started down the sidewalk. Silence took over for them, layering their walk with awkwardness. Adam scratched his neck; every time he went to say something, the words died on his tongue and left him with nothing to say.

"So," Taylor drawled, dragging out the _O _slowly. "What's this going to be like? The last school fair I ever went to was in the second grade—I can't remember any of it. I'm left clueless."

Adam shrugged, happy to have something to talk about. Now to see if he could actually _talk_. "This is the first time Finnegan ever put on something like this," he said, "Tater's usually too cheap to throw a fair of sorts."

"But didn't he buy a 500 dollar grill and 1,000 dollar chalk maker for his office?" Taylor pointed out.

He shrugged again. "I never said he wasn't selfish; I just said he was cheap."

"True."

The young prodigies broke out into a mingling laughter; Taylor lightly hitting his arm. Adam's cheeks rose to a tinted pink. Five minutes passed as they continued talking about the most normal of things—what students did to miss classes; why teacher's insisted on degrading them ("We went through getting the teaching degrees like them," Adam defending, prompting Taylor to reply with a "most definitely").

"We're here," the violinist said brightly. Admittedly, the fair was pretty impressive. Blown up coconut trees, food stands with grilled pineapple and fruit pouches, even kiss-up students smiling syrup smiles and handing out flower necklaces.

Taylor took it all in with excited, eager eyes and she hungrily eyed the pineapple. Partially, it was her fault for risking a growling stomach on a date, but she chalked it up to being nervous for even being on a _date _in the first place.

A perky brunette with a false, sweet smile and an almost-too-perky pep in step bounced up to them, all teeth and flowered hair. "Hola, and welcome to Coconut Island!"

Adam nearly choked on his tongue; Taylor's hand flew to her mouth to keep giggles from escaping.

"Wow," Adam said with a short laugh as the girl walked off. (Not before putting flower necklaces on them and smiling even wider and much more fake than before.) "That's actually a decent name coming from Tater."

The violinist shrugged, smiling a lanky boy manning one of the juice stations and taking a fruit punch after dropping two quarters into the glass jar. Adam did the same before gesturing over to a pair plastic chair set up a ways of from the activity.

For while, all the nervousness melted away. The couple overpowered their awkwardness with goofy smiles and quiet laughter. At one point, Adam pointed to the cleared grassy area near a beat-up radio blasting a static station; the song was barely audible. "Want to dance?" he asked shyly, flipping his hair into his eyes.

Taylor felt the heat rush up her neck and settle on her cheeks. "Sure," she said shyly with a lip biting grin.

Their hands interlocked; sweaty palms and nervous, swaying steps. The music was upbeat and scratchy, like a person clearing their throat and trying to sing at the same time, Taylor thought absently.

"This is…fun," Adam decided with a smile. He was very aware of her hands around his neck.

"As opposed to…?" Taylor prompted. There were tingles on her waist where his fingertips touched.

He leaned closer—his lips nearly touching her ear as the science teacher whispered, "as opposed to sitting on the sidelines like those three." As they swayed, Adam nonchalantly gestured to three grumpy looking teachers (and the guidance counselor, who hated being referred to as "just a teacher").

Taylor let her giggle rip from her chest and erupt from her lips, forehead resting delicately on her partner's shoulder.

Maybe this wasn't so bad; better than the teachers falling in love in her sister's sappy romance movies. Somewhat the same—two teenagers, but in a different, more unique light, not really teenagers at all. Because they grew up too fast.

Adam liked this better than what Echo had; clueless and nothing. He remembered dropping so many—and obvious, he must add—hints, by the third month when her ignorance was clear, he just kind of…stopped. He still couldn't figure out what exactly what he _stopped_, but whatever it was, Taylor _started it again_.

And he liked it.

"My hair!" A shrill shriek cried out, ripping through the partying atmosphere. A boy ran clumsily through the annoyed crowd, clutching at his overly gelled head in despair.

A few more screams and yells followed in a scramble of loud words. Surprised, the two stumbled away from each other. A commotion spread through the area like wild fire—so fast Taylor nearly lost sight of Adam's shirt and curly hair in the madness. But she reach out and grasped his arm just in time, pulling them together before taking off and running.

Adam didn't mind the rain dripping into his eyes or the slick ground beneath his feet, threatening to trip him at a moment's notice. His date ran ahead by a feet, her arm stretched behind her as she pulled him along. When they stop blocks away from the chaos they left at school, both of the teachers are panting, drenched in rain.

"What was that?" Taylor laughed, her question coming out in a tired gasp.

Adam smiled as he said, "Finnegan High School on a good day."

Buckets of raining were pouring down now, nothing left untouched. Mud puddles running in leaky rivers to the sewer in the road. Taylor tossed her head back and smiled widely up at the darkened clouds and falling drops; Adam admired how amazing she looked—so childish and beautiful, breathtaking.

Something snapped in him that moment. _She was it. _No fake crush and unsure feelings. No more worrying about betraying Derby and playing pretend with Echo. The girl, blonde and laughing and sparkling emerald eyes right in front of him, was the only thing he was concerned about.

That's why there were no regrets when he kissed her.

Everything froze when their lips touched. Adam let his eyes slip closed; Taylor gasped and moved closer. Her hands knot in his wet hair, his gripping to her waist for all she was worth. _Because right then, she was everything. _

Chests were pressing together, skin touching—burning like fire. Both set of eyes squeezed tightly closed.

Adam felt everything cliché feeling sparking—fireworks and butterflies, bliss in every inch of his body. He was positive Taylor felt the same.

Pulling away was the hardest thing to do. Lips swollen and wide-eyed, Taylor clutched onto his shirt, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. "What did we just do?"

"I don't know," Adam confessed, pulling her close. Their hearts were beating in the perfect rhythm. "But I think I want to do it again."

* * *

**I have absolutely no idea how to end this, but I wanted to get it finished and out of the way. I mean yeah, I** **was really happy at the beginning out this, but in the middle when I hit a bump, I was kind thrown off course.**

**Review and tell me if you would like an attempt at another one. If not, still review please and give me your imput.**


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